


Misfits' Magic

by whitesteelix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Ilvermorny, Eventual Relationships, F/M, First Year to Seventh Year, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Georgie's alive, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn, seriously the kid deserves better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-02-07 22:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitesteelix/pseuds/whitesteelix
Summary: Magical or not, high school still sucks.Or, the Harry Potter AU in which the Losers are Ilvermorny students.





	1. First Year - The Sorting

Bill Denbrough can’t remember the last time he’s felt so excited about school. He’s standing in the middle of a crowded terminal in Portland International Airport. Terminal 191/2 to be exact. He’s rarely ever left Derry, his tiny middle-of-nowhere hometown, and on any other day he would’ve been more excited just being in an airport for the first time. 

But today, he’s about to go to a magic school, where magical people learn to do magic. And _he’s_ one of those magical people. It sounds so crazy he’s half-convinced the past month has been some kind of lucid dream. The owl-delivered letter, the shopping trip he’d went on with his father to buy spell books and cauldrons… It all feels like something out of a bedtime story he’d make up for Georgie. 

The terminal is filled with children and adults, some in normal clothes and others wearing thick robes. Owls and ravens are zipping around overhead, and cats are expertly weaving past people’s legs. Outside the terminal window, Bill can see a crimson airplane with blue streaks that seems far too small to carry dozens of students. 

“Bill!” 

Bill turns towards the voice, and in the crowd he can make out a short boy waving at him, hair styled into a perfect quiff and familiar fanny pack wrapped around his waist.

“Hey Eddie!”

He grins at the sight of his best friend and holds up a hand in greeting as Eddie runs over to him. The Denbroughs had offered to give Eddie a lift to the airport, but Mrs. Kaspbrak had stubbornly refused. She’d wanted to say goodbye to her “sweet little Eddie Bear” in person, and the Denbroughs’ tiny car wouldn’t have fit all of them.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you. I _just_ managed to get away from my mom.”

Over his friend’s shoulder, Bill can see an anxious Mrs. Kaspbrak eyeing her son like a hawk, as though debating whether or not it’s too late to drag Eddie back to Derry. 

“L-l-let’s get on the p-plane before she d-d-decides to change her m-mind.”

The two of them quickly board, and are shocked to discover the interior is nothing like that of a normal plane. For starters, the inside of the plane looks at least three times larger than from the outside. Instead of rows of seats, the long corridor is outfitted with spacious compartments that would fit right in on a high-class train.

“Magic”, Eddie states simply, completely awestruck.

“Y-y-yeah. Magic.”

The two are knocked out of their stupor when a group of irritated older students try to push pass them. Bill and Eddie stow away their luggage, then set off to find an empty compartment before more students come through. Their search doesn’t take long, as a bespectacled boy with wild dark hair waves at them from his seat.

“Hey! You guys need somewhere to sit?”

Bill and Eddie gratefully enter the compartment, narrowly avoiding the stampede of other students. They take a seat across the bespectacled boy, who’s joined by a lanky, curly-haired boy already dressed in his red-and-blue school robes. 

“Wait a sec. Dude, are you wearing a fanny pack?” the bespectacled boy asks, pointing at Eddie’s waist.

“Uh, yeah. Something wrong with that?”

“I thought the only people who wear those things are senior citizens and tourists –”

“I’m Stanley by the way,” the curly-haired boy hastily interrupts. “And this idiot is Richie.”

“B-Bill. And th-th-this is Eddie.”

“Why do you talk like that?” Richie asks, prompting Stanley to immediately elbow his friend. 

“I-i-it’s fine. I just h-have a st-stutter.” Bill, who has come to expect the same question every time he meets new people, isn’t terribly bothered by Richie’s lack of tact. 

Eddie, who has always been defensive of his best friend, is glaring daggers at Richie when a pleasant voice starts speaking over the intercom.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your chief flight attendant. On behalf of Captain Mantell and the entire crew, welcome aboard Ilvermorny Airlines, Flight 191/2, non-stop service from Portland to Massachusetts…”

Bill tunes out the rest of the announcement, which is mostly going over safety regulations and flight conditions, and braces himself for turbulence; his father, the only one in the family who’s been out of state, explained that takeoff was always the most unpleasant part of a plane ride. To his surprise, there’s no sudden jolt of movement as the plane takes off. In fact, the small lurch he feels is no worse than a starting car. He offhandedly wonders if the plane is enchanted somehow to make the ride feel smoother. Out the window, Bill can make out Georgie eagerly waving to him as the scenery of the terminal zooms by, followed by the rapidly shrinking landscape of Portland, and soon enough all he can see is an endless sea of clouds. 

“It’s b-beautiful,” Bill says aloud, scooching over so Eddie can look outside as well. “I’ve n-n-never ridden a p-p-plane before.”

“And to think my parents are always complaining about No-Majs,” Richie says. “Getting to Ilvermorny was a complete mess before they invented airplanes.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks.

“It was a _literal_ mess,” Stanley says. “Nowadays, the school just sends airplanes all over the continent to pick up students, but before that everyone had to use Portkeys. My grandparents keep telling me to be grateful I didn’t attend Ilvermorny in the 1800s.”

“Er, P-P-Portkey?”

“They had to teleport to school,” Richie explains. “Problem is that using a Portkey when you’re too young can make you super sick. So, like, a third of the students would spend the first week of school vomiting everywhere.”

“That’s disgusting,” Eddie says with a visible shudder.

“Not as disgusting as your mom,” Richie replies conversationally.

“… _What_?”

Eddie stares at Richie with his mouth agape, looking so scandalized that Bill has to stop himself from giggling. Richie laughs and holds his hand up to Stanley for a high five, who simply rolls his eyes and grabs his wrist, pulling his hand back down. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to survive if we’re Sorted into the same House,” Stanley groans.

“W-w-what’s the deal w-with the whole S-Sorting thing, anyway?” Bill asks. 

“You guys don’t know about the Sorting?” 

“Not really. Bill’s a No-Maj-Born,” Eddie says, still glaring at Richie. “I’m Half-Blood, but I didn’t actually know I was a wizard until I got my letter.”

“Hey, no worries! Stan and I are both Pure-Bloods. Stick with us and we’ll show you the ropes,” Richie boasts. 

Stanley elbows Richie again and promptly launches into an explanation of the Sorting. Apparently, the student body is divided and sorted into one of four houses, each prizing a certain quality. Horned Serpent, which favours the scholarly. Wampus, which favours warriors. Thunderbird, which favours the adventurous. And Pukwudgie, which favours healers. 

Richie exclaims that he’s definitely going to end up in either Wampus or Thunderbird, and that Stanley will end up in Horned Serpent (“Because you’re a complete _nerd_ , Stan the Man.”). Eddie, meanwhile, has no idea what House he wants to be in, and when asked, Bill honestly states he doesn’t mind where he ends up so long as he has friends with him. 

“Aw, you’re making me blush Bill!” Richie laughs, reaching over to playfully punch his shoulder.

Bill and Eddie then ask Richie and Stanley about magic, since they both belonged to all-magical families, but it turns out they aren’t that much more knowledgeable on the subject. Stanley says that kids aren’t allowed to perform magic, or even receive a wand at all, until they enter Ilvermorny. 

At one point, a uniformed woman comes by pushing a cart full of snacks and Richie immediately buys a massive armful of assorted candy, eagerly insisting that Bill and Eddie have to try them all. Bill has a blast testing all the unfamiliar treats, such as the Rainbow Pops that stain his tongue appropriately, the Bubblegum Balloons that can be blown up to the size of a basketball, and the Every Flavour Beans, which are quite aptly named. Bill gets one that tastes like caramel, while Eddie spits his out, claiming it tastes like spinach.

Stanley stops him from eating the Tacky Taffies, explaining that they’ll glue his mouth shut for an hour, and that he usually gives them to Richie whenever he’s being too loud. And Eddie refuses to touch the multi-coloured Jelly Worms, which wriggle about like real worms. Richie spends the next five minutes flailing a handful of the worms in Eddie’s face as the shorter boy shrieks at him to stop. 

It’s not until Stanley forcibly shoves a Tacky Taffy in Richie’s mouth that they get a moment of peace, and the rest of the flight passes without incident. 

\----------

Unlike the rest of the student body, who get to Ilvermorny by carriage, the first-years have to reach the school by hiking up the mountain trail on foot. To build character and give the students a chance to experience the unique, literally magical ecology of Mount Greylock. At least that’s what the aging groundskeeper, Mr. Daggett, claims.

Meanwhile, all Eddie can think about is the probability of hiking-related fatalities. 

“R-r-relax Eddie,” Bill says, quickly noticing his discomfort. “M-Mr. D-Daggett said n-n-new students d-do this every year, s-so I’m sure it’s s-safe.”

“…Right,” Eddie replies, not entirely convinced. He tries to keep his anxiety under control as they climb up the aged, cobblestone steps. In the distance, they can just barely see the granite walls of Ilvermorny above the treeline.

Richie had been the most excited about the hike, eager to catch a glimpse of a fantastic beast, something like a dragon or a hippogriff. A half hour into the trek, however, they have yet to see anything more interesting than a small, blue-feathered bird, and Richie just seems bored by the whole ordeal. 

“And here we see a specimen of the indigenous bluebird,” Richie says in an absolutely awful Australian accent. “Which, I should point out, is neither magical nor interesting in any way.”

“Actually, that’s a Jobberknoll. You can tell by the iridescent down. Their feathers are used to make Memory Potions,” Stanley replies distractedly, sharp eyes intently observing the woods. “And shut up Richie. You’re going to scare away all the animals.” 

Richie sticks his tongue out at his friend, not that Stanley seems to notice or care.

“Hey Stan, why don’t we blow this popsicle stand and go on a little off-road hike? Satisfy that bird-watching boner of yours. Bet there’re way cooler things deeper in the forest”.

Already tired and annoyed, Eddie finds himself speaking before Stanley can reply. 

“Are you kidding me? Like, over a hundred people die every year while hiking. Plus, who knows how many diseases or dangerous animals are out there? Why the heck would anyone want to spend their time wandering around the woods?”

Evidently, speaking up was a mistake. Richie grins obnoxiously, his face lighting up with unbridled glee, like he was just waiting for someone to take the bait. 

“Beats spending it inside of your mother!”

“Okay, that wasn’t funny the first time you said it, and it _definitely_ isn’t funny the second time!”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stanley says, rolling his eyes. “Quit bugging Eddie.”

Richie, of course, ignores his friend and casually drapes an arm over Eddie’s shoulders.

“Hey! Get your hands off me!”

“Oh, lighten up!” Richie laughs. “I’m just messing with you, Eds.” 

“And don’t call me that!”

There’s a brief struggle as Eddie tries to push the other boy off, but, being shorter and lighter, he only ends up throwing himself off balance. He yelps when he feels his feet slip on the stone steps, and instinctively grabs at the other boy’s robes in his panic. 

“Dude, watch it!” 

“Eddie!” 

There’s a horrible swooping feeling in Eddie’s gut as he falls backward and tumbles off the trail, and he has barely enough time to twist himself around so he lands on his arms and not the back of his head.

“Eddie! Are y-you okay!?”

The impact isn’t quite as painful as Eddie expected, but to his horror, he realizes that he’s landed in a damp, muddy ditch. He can feel mud seeping into his robes and he shrieks, his mind racing through a list of all the terrible diseases that are undoubtedly festering in the dirt and grime. 

In seconds, Bill has rushed down the trail to help him. To Eddie’s surprise, Richie quickly follows him, along with an exasperated Stanley. They all try to pull him out of the dirty hole he’s fallen into, which they realize too late is some sort of burrow. A horde of angry fairy-like creatures immediately fly out and attack them, eager to draw blood with their sharp claws. Bill is able to pull Eddie back onto his feet, but not before the tiny creatures have viciously scratched their exposed hands and faces. 

“Get them off! Get them off!” Eddie screams as the four of them swat at the air, trying to keep their attackers at bay. By now, Mr. Daggett and the rest of the first-years realize something is amiss, and the groundskeeper runs down to help. 

Thankfully, Mr. Daggett manages to chase the creatures off quickly enough, but Eddie flushes bright red in shame when he sees the rest of the firsts years giggling at them. He’s certain that without Bill there to comfort him, he’d have suffered a full-blown panic attack then and there from the embarrassment. 

“See, Stanny-boy? Now that was _way_ more interesting than a Jobbyknob.”

And that is how, on the first day of school, a loudmouthed moron with bug-eye glasses pushed Eddie into a nest of Doxy eggs.

\----------

“C’mon dude. It was an accident!”

“You pushed me off the trail!”

“Well maybe that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t overreacted!”

They’re standing in the middle of the Great Hall, covered in scratches and their robes caked with dried mud. Eddie has yet to stop glaring at Richie, and is struggling to think of a scathing enough retort when he’s cut short by the start-of-year assembly. The first years are addressed by the Headmaster, a gangly, silver-haired man named Professor Callahan, but the four of them are barely paying attention to his speech. 

Now resolutely ignoring Richie, Eddie pulls out his travel-sized bottle of cleaning alcohol from the fanny pack under his robes and fervently begins cleaning out the scratches on his arms, nose wrinkled with concentration. Once he’s done, he holds his hand out to Bill, silently demanding he roll up his sleeves. The older boy sighs in exasperation, but has a fond smile on his face as he complies and lets Eddie clean his wounds, knowing that he won’t be pleased until he’s certain that Bill’s optimal health is ensured.

Eddie is about to offer the alcohol to the other two boys, but he sees Stanley is already cleaning his own cuts with a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer. Eddie silently nods to himself in approval; Stanley had apologized profusely for Richie’s idiocy as they walked the rest of the way up the mountain, and Eddie had quickly decided he liked the curly-haired boy much better than his annoying friend. 

Unfortunately, they aren’t able to do anything about their filthy clothes, which seems to be bothering Stanley immensely. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to go through the Sorting ceremony covered in dirt and blood,” he says, hands wringing anxiously and face scrunched up in disgust. 

“B-beats being c-covered in v-v-vomit, right?” Bill says, concern in his voice. The joke comes off more awkward than intended due to his stutter, but Stanley gives him an appreciative, if strained, smile nonetheless. 

Eddie, meanwhile, suddenly gets the horrible thought maybe none of the houses will want him. If he’s realized anything from the first-years’ hike, it’s that he’s not particularly smart or adventurous, he sure as heck isn’t a brave warrior, and he’s definitely more a victim than a healer. He almost asks Stanley whether it’s possible for a student to be rejected by all four houses, but the Headmaster starts calling out the first-years’ names before he can voice his concerns. 

Professor Callahan goes through the alphabetical list of students, and Bill is one of the first to get called up. Not nearly as bothered by his dishevelled state as Eddie or Stanley, Bill eagerly makes his way to the centre of the chamber, overlooked by four massive wooden statues. He’s barely had time to stand on the podium when the statue of what resembles a large mountain lion roars triumphantly. 

“Wampus!” the Headmaster calls out. 

A round of applause follows from the older students, and Eddie claps as loud as he can as a beaming Bill goes to join the rest of his Housemates. 

It isn’t long before the Headmaster reaches Eddie’s name, and he nearly trips on his way up to the podium. He stands motionless, sweating bullets, and can’t help but think the four statues look particularly intimidating from this angle, surrounding him and looking down on him. A few seconds of silence pass, which feel like an eternity from his perspective. 

Eddie doesn’t think it took nearly this long for any of the other students to get sorted. He starts to feel a familiar sense of panic overtake him and is about to take his inhaler out of his fanny pack, when the statue of the strange, goblin-like creature stirs and points its bow into the air.

“Pukwudgie!” the Headmaster exclaims, and the other students cheer politely, Bill clapping with the most enthusiasm. Chest still tight with nerves and eager to get out of the spotlight, Eddie rushes off the podium to join his new House. He sits down next to a taller, dark-skinned boy in his year, and desperately wills himself to stop blushing. 

He’s so wracked with nerves it takes him a second to realize he’s not in the same house as his best friend, and he shoots Bill a worried glance from across the hall. Sensing his distress, Bill gives him a thumbs up and a reassuring smile, and Eddie does his best to get his breathing back to a stable pace. 

The rest of the Sorting passes quickly and Richie’s predictions prove to be spot-on, as the bespectacled boy ends up in Thunderbird while Stanley gets sorted into Horned Serpent. The first-years then get herded into a separate chamber, where a small, ancient woman in heavy robes is standing on a stage. Beside her is a long, narrow table with hundreds of rectangular wooden boxes organized into neat rows. The Headmaster introduces the woman as Ms. Dubativo, a celebrated wandmaker, and explains this is where they’ll finally receive their wands. The first-years start whispering to each other excitedly until the robed woman starts calling out their names.

Again, Bill is the first student to get called up, and this time he’s nearly vibrating with excitement. Not that Eddie can blame him, as he feels much the same way; they’re only about to get their freaking _wands_ after all. 

Ms. Dubativo scrutinizes Bill for a moment, then takes out a wand from one of the many boxes. 

“Holly and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches, quite rigid…” she mutters, more to herself than to Bill.

Bill reaches for the wand, but almost instantly the elderly woman snatches it back and returns it to the box.

“No no no, not right at all… How about…?” Ms. Dubativo hands Bill another wand, not that he can really tell what the difference is between the two. “Ash and unicorn hair, eleven inches, reasonably pliable…”

Bill takes hold of the wand, and his face lights up with amazement when a stream of golden sparks shoot out from its tip. The other students all gasp in wonder, and he shares an awestruck grin with Eddie before he sits back down with his House, new wand in hand. 

This time, Eddie rushes forward with excitement rather than nerves when his name is called. He tries not to bounce in place as Ms. Dubativo looks him up and down, then hands him one of her many wands. Like with Bill, the wandmaker quickly takes back the first few. The Oak and phoenix feather wand is a bust, as is the Ash and jackalope antler, as well as the Cedar and dittany stalk.

Eddie is tapping his feet impatiently by the time Ms. Dubativo picks out the fourth wand, a thoughtful expression on her wrinkled face. 

“Hm… Perhaps… Not a common core material, to be sure, and rather stubborn, but…”

She holds out yet another wand, and Eddie reaches for it hesitantly, half expecting it to be snatched out his grasp once more. 

“Nine and a half inches, springy. Hawthorn and Thunderbird tail feather.”

“Uh, I’m in Pukwudgie, actually.”

Ms. Dubativo stares directly into his eyes, giving him an odd, unsettling look. Eddie feels like she’s staring straight into his soul, and suppresses a shiver. “Mr. Kaspbrak, wands are not so simple as to favour a witch or wizard from a particular House.”

And it seems the wandmaker is correct, because the second Eddie touches the wand, it’s tip glows with a beautiful, near-blinding silver light. Eddie can distantly hear the other students clapping in the background, but he barely registers the noise over his own amazement. 

“…Hawthorn wands are not easily mastered. You may have gained a powerful ally today, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

With that final comment, Ms. Dubativo shoos him off the stage so the next eager first-year can come up, leaving Eddie thoroughly confused; why did she refer to the wand as though it’s a person? 

In any case, Eddie is far too ecstatic over his wand to ponder the cryptic remark for long. He remembers when the letter of enrollment first came, delivered by an owl no less. He remembers learning that his mother, of all people, was actually a witch this whole time. He remembers how upset he’d been at his mother’s secrecy, and his mother telling him she’d only kept this whole other world a secret because she loves him and wanted to protect him. 

“ _You love your mommy too, don’t you dear?_ ” she’d asked, the familiar hint of a demand under her sweet tone.

“ _…yes mommy_ ,” Eddie had replied, ever the dutiful son.

He remembers arguing with his mother for the first time in his life, begging to be allowed to attend Ilvermorny. Promising to take all his medication, to keep his inhaler in hand at all times, to write home every week. He remembers how his mother had only relented after writing to Ilvemorny, and the school had assured her that they would do everything in their power to accommodate Eddie’s condition.

Now, with his wand in hand, Eddie knows that he’d been right to stand his ground for once. There’s a tingling, comforting warmth radiating from his wand, and he feels like he’s been reunited with a part of himself that he’s never even noticed was missing. A feeling of _rightness_ that he’s rarely experienced in his life. At this moment, Eddie’s not a frail, sickly little boy covered in dirt and Doxy scratches. 

He’s a _wizard_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I’ve been writing in my free time. Apologies in advance for what will likely be a very inconsistent upload schedule. Especially with finals starting next week, ha ha…


	2. First Year - The Losers' Club

The morning after the Sorting Ceremony, Richie approaches Eddie in the Great Hall and holds out a chocolate muffin. 

“A peace offering,” he says with an earnest smile. “I really didn’t mean to push you yesterday.”

Eddie is surprised and admittedly a little touched by the gesture. He takes the offered muffin and mumbles out a shy “thank you”. He doesn’t object when Richie takes a seat next to him, cheerily greeting Bill and Stanley before digging into the seemingly endless mountain of food. 

To Eddie’s dismay, it seems Richie has taken his forgiveness as a go-ahead to be even more obnoxious than when they’d first met. 

In addition to the ceaseless _your mom_ jokes, Richie starts to address Eddie with a variety of ridiculous nicknames, eventually settling on the lovingly coined “Eddie Spaghetti”. Eddie tries to retaliate by calling him the not-so-lovingly coined “Trashmouth”, but if anything Richie seems to love the nickname even more than his actual name. Bill, meanwhile, gets along with Richie just fine, even politely laughing at some of his awful jokes.

“So what classes do you all have?” Richie asks through a mouthful of his breakfast. Eddie and Stanley glare at him when he accidentally sprays toast crumbs in their direction.

“T-transf-f-figuration,” Bill says, reading his timetable. “L-looks like we’re in the s-same class first p-period, Eddie.”

“Hey, so that must mean we have Herbology together, Stan the Man!”

“…Wonderful.”

To Eddie’s relief, Stanley drags Richie off to Herbology early since the greenhouses are a ways off from the castle and Stanley doesn’t want to be late for his first class. Once Eddie finishes his muffin, briefly feeling guilty for eating chocolate during breakfast, he and Bill set out as well to find the Transfiguration classroom. 

They soon regret not having left earlier, since it turns out that Ilvermorny is a confusing mess of moving staircases and misleading hallways. There are doors that refuse to open unless a riddle is correctly answered, and fake doors that lead straight to a solid wall, and quite a few staircases with false steps that the students have to remember to jump over. Eddie swears that one stairwell in particularly takes you to a higher floor if you climb down, and to a lower floor if you climb up. 

The dormitories, at the very least, had been a bit easier to locate. Right outside the main entrance of the central castle is a massive courtyard, and the dorms, eight-story-tall stone buildings decorated with large banners of their respective magical beast, are situated on each corner of the field. The ground floor of each dormitory is also open to all students regardless of House, with each building offering unique amenities. The Pukwudgies' dormitory has a massive communal kitchen on the first floor, the Horned Serpents' a casual library and study space, the Wampuses' a gym and indoor court for sports, and the Thunderbirds' a decked out rec room.

The Head Boy of Pukwudgie had explained the dorms were built separate from the rest of the school so students wouldn’t get lost as easily, but Eddie can’t help but wonder why the castle itself wasn’t built with such a concern in mind.

The actual Pukwudgies that roam the school aren’t really inclined to help new students either. Despite being the namesake of his House, when Eddie asks one of the surly goblin-like creatures for directions, it barely spares him a glance before it resumes polishing an old marble statue, grumbling about annoying first-years under its breath.

If he’s being completely honest, the castle kind of freaks Eddie out. With halls lined with ancient suits of armour, and walls covered in giant shields and First Nations quilts, Ilvermorny doesn’t quite have the ‘magical Disney palace’ feel he’d expected. Even Ilvermorny’s PA system is decidedly unorthodox; instead of regular loudspeakers, the announcements are made through a set of unsettling stone gargoyles that talk animatedly from the rafters, telling students to get to class on time and reminding them of the upcoming Clubs Day.

To Eddie and Bill’s amazement, the older students seem to have no trouble navigating the castle at all, deftly jumping over the false steps and not even flinching when a stairwell starts to move mid-climb.

Eddie, meanwhile, immediately gets his foot stuck in one of the false steps, and it takes the combined efforts of both Bill and a passing fifth-year to pull Eddie out.

The duo ends up late for their first class, but the Transfiguration teacher, a bright young woman named Professor Dunhill, thankfully doesn’t seem to mind their tardiness. She good-naturedly tells the students that she’d had just as much trouble navigating the school back when she was a first-year, and that she’d once gotten so badly lost that the staff had to send a search party to find her.

And while navigating the school proves to be a complete train wreck of an experience, the actual class is fortunately every bit as exciting as hoped. 

At the start of their first lecture, Professor Dunhill changes her desk into a pig and back again, to general astonishment. Bill eagerly puts his hand up and asks if humans can be Transfigured as well, his stutter even more pronounced from excitement. The class erupts into cheers when the Professor suddenly transforms herself into a golden-furred wolf. 

Once she’s changed back into a human, Professor Dunhill faces the class with an unexpectedly stern expression.

“As you can see, Transfiguration is one of the most incredible and flexible fields of magic that you’ll be learning during your school years. However, it is also one that requires strict discipline and practice. Mistakes can be fatal, but I have yet to have a student die in my class. I’ll be quite discouraged if you lot are the first to tarnish my record.”

Professor Dunhill spends the next hour writing down notes on the board, stressing how Transfiguration is one of the most dangerous branches of magic taught in Ilvermorny. 

According to the Professor, there’s an important difference between temporary Transfiguration, which is what they’ll be learning in her class, and permanent Transfiguration which allows people to, among other things, transform themselves into animals.

Becoming an Animagus is an example of Permanent Transfiguration, which requires complex, multi-step spellwork and, as the name suggests, lasts for a lifetime once completed. Temporary Transfiguration, however, requires constant concentration to maintain. For this reason, one of the cardinal rules of Transfiguration is to never transform something that can easily enter the human body. No gases, no liquids, no food, or even anything resembling food. 

“Suppose you Transfigure a desk into a glass of water, and then drink the water. As you can all imagine, the results wouldn’t be pretty once the temporary Transfiguration wears off.” 

After the crash course on Transfiguration safety, Professor Dunhill assigns them a reading from their textbook and tells them to review the Fundamental Equation of Transfiguration for Wednesday. By the time the first-years are dismissed, they’re all frazzled and rather intimidated. 

“I dunno how I feel about this class,” Eddie admits nervously. “Sounds like you could really get hurt if you mess up with Transfiguration.” 

“Yeah, I g-guess… but think of how c-c-cool it would b-be if you c-could turn a table into a pig.” 

They’re about to head to next period when a taller boy from their Transfiguration class roughly bumps into Bill, nearly knocking him onto the ground. 

“O-o-o-oh, I-I-I’m sooo s-s-sorry!” the boy says with a mocking grin. “B-b-better watch where you’re g-g-g-going!”

Bill flushes horribly, and the two remain silent as the taller boy leaves, cackling and giving high-fives to his group of laughing friends. Eddie tightly grips Bill’s hand, and Bill feels a swell of appreciation for his best friend.

“Don’t listen to those jerks, Bill,” Eddie mutters quietly. 

“Th-th-th-thanks, E-Eddie…”

Bill stops putting his hand up in classes after that. 

\----------

It’s not just Bill who ends up under the scrutiny of the other first years. 

Eddie is by far the shortest boy in their year, which immediately makes him a target. The first-years whisper familiar insults behind his back (girly-boy, wimp, loser...), and his constant anxiety and fear of disease quickly becomes another reason for his Housemates to pick on him. On his third night at Ilvermorny, Eddie finds a dead bug on his pillow. He jumps out of his bed with a scream and runs out of his bedroom, and flushes with shame when he catches some of his Housemates muffling giggles. He doesn’t have proof, but he’s fairly sure one of his dormmates put the bug there, and the thought hurts him more than he’d like.

Richie quickly makes a name for himself as the Class Clown. He regales his classes with his Voices, though all his so-called ‘impressions’ just sound like Richie with a bad accent. The more studious first-years find him annoying, and most of the Professors hate how disruptive he is. To Eddie’s utter confusion, Richie actually seems proud that he’s scored at least three separate detentions by the end of their first week. 

Stanley spends a lot of time studying and becomes the top of most of their classes. Bill thinks his dedication is admirable, but the other first-years aren’t as kind, derisively calling him “nerd” or “try-hard” or “teacher’s pet”. Even his fellow Horned Serpents don’t particularly like Stanley, and Richie loudly suspects it’s because they’re jealous of being outperformed. Stanley’s compulsive neatness doesn’t help matters at all; his dormmates often mock him for making his own bed every morning, rather than leaving the cleaning to the house elves like everyone else.

To top it all off, it turns out that the four of them have become somewhat infamous among their year as the losers who were beat up by Doxies on their first day of school. Lunches are spent sitting in the most secluded corner of the Great Hall, lest the other first-years whisper and point at them all hour. 

At one point, Bill suggests they all join a club and that it might help them make some new friends. The suggestion becomes rather unenthused when Bill finds out Ilvermorny doesn’t have a Creative Writing Club. To Stanley’s indignation, there’s no Bird Watching Club either. And in Eddie’s opinion the most popular club among the first-years, the Gobstones Club, is frankly disgusting.

“Seriously, what’s wrong with _regular_ marbles? Why would you want ones that spray gunk all over you?”

Stanley pre-emptively glares at Richie before he can make a dirty joke, and the bespectacled boy shrugs back, smiling innocently.

By the second week of term, Bill becomes fed up with the other first-years going out of their way to avoid them in the Great Hall during lunch. He can tell that his friends, even Richie, are bothered by their peers gossiping and whispering as well.

“L-l-let’s f-find somewhere else t-to eat,” Bill says, abruptly getting up from his seat.

“Sounds good to me,” Richie immediately chimes in, like he’s been waiting all week for Bill to give the go-ahead. Eddie is already stuffing napkins into his fanny pack, and Stanley hesitantly admits there aren’t any rules that students absolutely _have to_ eat lunch in the Great Hall. 

They all grab a few sandwiches and promptly leave the Great Hall, following Bill as he leads them outside the castle. They decide against going back to the dorms, since most students hang around there after finishing their lunch. Instead, they head for the Herbology greenhouses, hoping the area will be more secluded. 

They’re nearing the greenhouses, eagerly chatting about their classes and wondering when they’ll finish with magical theory and get to start doing practical wandwork, when Richie suddenly cries out.

“Crap! Hide!”

Richie grabs Eddie and pulls him behind one of the greenhouses, ignoring the shorter boy’s protests, and Bill and Stanley quickly follow. They peek around the corner to see a group of laughing fourth-years boys pass, led by Henry Bowers. The four involuntarily flinch at the sight. 

Henry is one of the most notorious bullies in the entire school. From what they’ve heard from the second and third-years, Henry's cruelty is matched only by his penchant for crude violence. More than a few students have shown up in the hospital wing sporting mysterious bruises and missing a handful of Sickles. Henry's father is apparently a big shot Ministry official, and the rumour is that the Professors are so willfully ignorant of Henry's constant misbehaviour because they’re afraid of losing their jobs. 

Thankfully, the bullies don’t notice them. They cautiously come out of their hiding spot once the threat has passed, when they hear soft whimpers coming from one of the greenhouses. Immediately, Bill heads towards the sound with his friends hastily following behind him. Bill opens the greenhouse door, and inside they find a boy huddled in the corner, shivering. His robes are covered in dirt and he’s sporting a nasty looking black eye. 

They realize it’s Mike, a Pukwudgie first-year. He’s rather quiet and none of them apart from Eddie have even had a conversation with him, but Eddie says he likes him. Unlike the rest of his Housemates, Mike has never picked on him.

“What the hell happened to you?” Riche blurts out. 

Mike startles and looks up, warily eyeing the four boys as though he expects them to attack him. He seems to calm down a bit once he spots Eddie, and the shorter boy kneels down to inspect his dormmate’s bruised eye. 

“I… I tripped down the stairs.”

Eddie gives him a look, both concerned and doubtful. “You tripped down the stairs and gave yourself a black eye?”

The four boys respectfully look away when Mike sniffles and wipes the tears in his eyes. 

“…Fine. I didn’t trip,” Mike admits eventually, giving a tired sigh. “Bowers and his gang cornered me.”

“Jeez, what’d you do to make him so angry?” Richie asks. As brutish as Henry and his gang are, they usually avoid targeting first-years. Mike shrugs half-heartedly in lieu of an actual answer, which doesn’t seem to satisfy Richie.

Bill offers Mike a hand and helps him to his feet, and Eddie introduces Bill, Stanley and Richie to his dormmate. Mike gives a small, nervous smile as he greets them.

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Mike. Mike Hanlon.” 

“Wait a second. Hanlon?” Stanley says. “As in _Evanna Hanlon_?”

Richie gasps. “The famous Auror who exposed and arrested Norman Bowers for being a Dark Wizard?” 

“Uh, yeah. She was my great-grandmother,” Mike replies, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “Probably why Bowers hates me so much. His family’s had a huge grudge on mine ever since that whole scandal.”

“Okay, wait,” Eddie interrupts. “Auror? Dark Wizard? Can someone explain this to me?”

“Erm, well Aurors are basically wizarding police,” Mike replies. “And Norman Bowers was a really important MACUSA official. Secretary of Law Enforcement, I think? Turns out he was dabbling in Dark Magic and stealing money to fund an anti-No-Maj extremist group.” 

“The Bowers are one of the most respected Pureblood families in America,” Richie adds. “They’re still super influential and rich as heck, but the mess with Norman Bowers was a huge blow to their reputation.”

“Th-that’s still no reason t-t-to bully you,” Bill insists. “Y-you had n-n-nothing to d-do with that.”

“Yeah, that’s ridiculous. You and Henry weren't even born when that happened,” Eddie says indignantly. “You have to tell a teacher about this.”

“No way. The bruise isn’t even that bad,” Mike says, gingerly touching his black eye. The other boys look at him dubiously when he flinches at the touch, but Mike stubbornly refuses to tell on his tormentors. “Besides, what’re the Professors going to do? Put Bowers in detention? He’d kill me the second he got out for tattling on him.”

The others eventually, reluctantly relent; they’re well aware of the horror stories of what happens to squealers in Ilvermorny. Still, they all insist on accompanying Mike back to the castle and take him to the hospital wing. Once there, Mike repeats his “tripped down the stairs” story to the impassive nurse, who hands him a tub of bruise-removal cream and sends them on their way.

Afterwards, the group of five head back outside the castle and find a secluded bench to eat their food. Eddie gives one of his extra sandwiches to Mike, who has yet to eat anything.

“Thanks Eddie,” he says, ravenously biting into his sandwich. Eddie and Stanley are pleased to find that Mike has much better table manners than Richie, as he actually finishes swallowing his food before he resumes speaking. “This is gonna sound pathetic, but I've always eaten lunch on my own until now.”

“Wait! You should hang out with us!” Eddie says excitedly. “And it’d be awesome to have a friend in the same House.”

Riche, Bill, and Stanley all nod in agreement, though Mike looks at them like they’re crazy.

“You guys sure about that? Bowers will probably go after you too if you’re hanging out with me.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it Mikey,” Richie says with a dismissive wave. “The four of us are already losers.”

Bill smiles and places a reassuring hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Yeah, c-c-can’t get any w-worse.”

“Strength in numbers, right?” Stanley adds. 

Mike nervously bites his lip, but once he realizes that the other boys are serious about their offer, he hesitantly returns Bill’s smile. 

“…Thank you, guys. Really.”

Once they’re finished with their lunches, Mike tells them all a bit about himself. He’s a Half-Blood who lives on a farm owned by his No-Maj grandfather, who’s raised him ever since his parents passed away. Mike quietly thanks the other boys when they give him their condolences, and Eddie tells him that he can kind of understand how it feels, since he lost his own father at a young age as well.

“Honestly, I don’t remember my folks all that much,” Mike admits, a sombre look on his face. “They passed away when I was really little.”

Not wishing to sour the mood, Mike starts telling them stories about life on a farm. Richie and Stanley, who both grew up in rich, Pureblood households, are astonished by all the non-magical manual labor apparently involved in farm work. Richie is particularly horrified by how early Mike has to get up in the morning to do chores, and Mike laughs and replies that he got used to it pretty quickly.

It turns out that Mike has a warm, infectiously cheerful smile, and before long all of them are grinning and chatting as though they’d known each other for weeks, not hours. And though in the back of his mind, Eddie is already anxious over becoming Henry Bowers’ newest target, he thinks that seeing his dormmate’s smile is worth the trouble.

“Y’know what? To heck with the Gobstones Club!” Richie exclaims. “Mike, welcome to the Losers’ Club!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slow update, I've been working on this every now and then between exams. And thank you for the comments and kudos, this is my first time posting a story here and any feedback at all is very much appreciated!


	3. First Year - The Thanksgiving Feast

Despite Stanley’s half-hearted protests, Richie’s new nickname for their group of friends quickly sticks. Somehow, calling themselves Losers makes it hurt a little less when they hear the other first-years make fun of them in the halls. 

“You must embrace who you are!” Richie sagely insists, doing a horrible impression of an old Asian man.

Early next morning, Eddie finds Mike awkwardly sitting in the Pukwudgie commons, looking around the room like a lost puppy. 

Mike immediately jumps up when he spots Eddie. He nervously explains that he usually wakes up very early and heads to breakfast alone, but wasn’t sure whether to wait for Eddie this time. Eddie assures Mike that he’s welcome to join the Losers for breakfast, and Mike follows him to the Great Hall with visible relief, like he’d been expecting the Losers to change their mind and ditch him.

And despite Mike’s fears, it seems becoming friends with him has made Eddie _less_ of a target of bullying, if anything. Before, it was easy for the other Pukwudgie first-years to single Eddie out after classes, since all his friends were in other Houses. Now that he’s hanging out with Mike as well, their dormmates rarely have the opportunity to catch Eddie alone to pick on him. It certainly helps that Mike is one of the tallest boys in their year.

Another unexpected plus of their friendship is that Mike _loves_ History of Magic. Though he would beg to disagree, general consensus is that History of Magic is by far their dullest course. It doesn’t help that their History Professor, Mr. Buddinger, has such a droning, monotone voice that it’s a struggle to simply stay awake in his class. Even Stanley, as dedicated to his studies as he is, has never cared for the subject.

Mike, however, is so obviously passionate about History that the Losers can listen to him list dates and names and events without it feeling like torture. Eddie even manages to score his first A after Mike helps him write his last History essay. Mike has no qualms with sharing his answers either, unlike Stanley, who never lets the others copy off his homework (“I’ll edit your essays for you, but that’s it. You won’t learn anything if I just tell you the solution.”).

Really, Mike turns out to be so nice and considerate a friend that it’s hard to believe anyone could hold a grudge against him. Which just makes Eddie hate Henry even more for beating Mike up over something that literally happened a century ago. 

Fortunately, Henry and his gang have yet to target him again. At worst, they give Mike threatening glares from across the Great Hall, or roughly bump into him in the hallways. Stanley speculates it’s because the Losers are always accompanying Mike between classes now; even the most brazen bully would hesitate to publicly beat up a group of first-years from all four Houses.

Even better is that with most of the basics and theory covered by the end of their first month, the first-years get to start performing actual magic in class. 

At least, that would be a plus if the Pukwudgies and Horned Serpents weren’t stuck in History of Magic first thing in the morning. While Richie and Bill are likely having a blast using the Levitating Charm for the first time, Eddie, Stanley, and Mike are stuck listening to Professor Buddinger blather on and on about the founding of Ilvermorny.

“… the family was cornered by Gormlaith and, in her desperation, Isolt cried out for her late father, William. Ironically, the call was answered by a Pukwudgie, the very same one that Isolt had previously rescued and named… “

Stanley and Mike are among the few students paying attention to the lecture, and Mike among the even smaller number of students who seem interested in the material. Eddie, meanwhile, is struggling to keep his eyes open. He takes out his wand and absently practices some wand movements under his desk, knowing he can ask his friends for their notes later.

“…and that is how William the Pukwudgie repaid his debt to Isolt Sayre, and how the first North American school of witchcraft and wizardry came to be. Now, for next week –”

Professor Buddinger stops mid sentence, and the less attentive students look up in confusion. At the very front of the classroom, timidly holding his hand up, is Ben Hanscom, a short, chubby Horned Serpent. According to Stanley, his dormmate prefers to keep to himself, always reading books in a secluded section of the library. In fact, none of them have heard Ben say more than two words before, making his participation even more surprising.

“Yes, Mr. Hanscom?”

Ben speaks with a soft, nervous voice. “Um, I was just wondering… is the story about William the Pukwudgie really accurate? I mean, I thought it was kind of strange that Isolt apparently called out for her father by his first name…”

Professor Buddinger blinks dumbfoundedly. Mistaking his silence for interest, Ben plows on.

“I, uh… I read in _Revised Magical History_ that ‘William’ might not have even been a real Pukwudgie, just a stand-in for all the Mahican witches and wizards that helped start Ilvermorny, and that British historians wanted to downplay Native Americans’ contribution to the development of the modern magical community and…um…”

Professors Buddinger clears his throat, and Ben’s rambling slows into an awkward silence, his face turning bright red. The Professor seems just as shocked as the rest of the students that someone has not only participated in his class, but tried to correct him as well.

“While your... _passion_ for history is appreciated, Mr. Hanscom, it frankly does not matter what you read in _Revised Magical History_. The curriculum for this class is primarily based on material from _History of Magical America_ , and consulting extraneous sources will not be necessary unless otherwise stated.”

“Oh. Right. Um… sorry…”

Ben’s face turns even redder and he sinks deeper into his seat, looking like he wants to disappear. The first-years start to whisper and giggle quietly, when Mike suddenly puts his hand up. Professor Buddinger gives Mike an irritated look, liked he’d much preferred it when his students were dead silent and bored out of their minds. 

“Yes, Mr. Hanlon?”

“I think Ben brings up a good point though. Isn’t it best to consider a bunch of perspectives before drawing a conclusion instead of just looking at _one_ biased source?”

“Be that as it may, consideration of multiple perspectives is outside the scope of this course. My job is to make sure that my students do not fail their exams, and anything beyond that is not in my purview. 

“But –”

“That’s enough, Mr. Hanlon. Class is nearly over, and I’d like to assign your homework for next week.”

Mike reluctantly lowers his hand, mutinously muttering under his breath. Everyone groans when Professor Buddinger assigns them a 400-word essay and, once the bell rings, the first-years all scramble out of their seats to escape the classroom. Mike tries to go talk to Ben, but the chubby boy is deceptively swift and has already disappeared around the corner before Mike can so much as call out his name.

“I can’t believe Professor Buddinger,” Mike says, fuming. “He basically told Ben to just shut up, don’t bother to think critically in this class.”

Eddie winces sympathetically. “Ugh, I feel really bad for him. He looked so embarrassed…”

The trio are heading to their next class when they run into Bill and Richie. The latter is a complete mess; his robes are coated black with ash, and his already messy hair is wildly sticking out in all directions. Eddie, Stanley, and Mike stare at him speechlessly while Bill stands to the side, giggling. 

“Richie b-blew up his feather in Ch-Charms today,” Bill says, struggling to hold back laughter.

Stanley gives his best friend a horrified look. “How did you make something _explode_ with the _Levitating_ Charm?”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” 

“I think h-he did the w-wand movements w-wrong.”

Eddie and Mike laugh along with Bill, which makes Richie break into a smug grin.

“Details, details,” he says dismissively. “So, how was History?” 

“More interesting than usual, actually,” Eddie says. “You should’ve seen Mike go off on Professor Buddinger. It’s the first time I’ve seen you look actually annoyed.”

“He was being a jerk,” Mike grumbles. 

“He’s a dreadful teacher,” Stanley agrees. 

“W-what else is n-new?”

“The 400-word essay he assigned us for next week,” Eddie says, deadpan, making Bill and Richie groan indignantly. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Canadian Thanksgiving’s coming in a few days!” Richie says. “Y'know, my cousins never shut up about how the holiday feasts at Ilvermorny are amazing.”

“What’s so amazing about them?” Eddie asks. Thanksgiving for him has always been a quiet affair, just dinner with his mother and, occasionally, the Denbroughs.

“Well, let’s just say they’re quite the spectacle, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie casually drapes an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and the smaller boy recoils in disgust when his robes get stained with ash. 

“Get off me! And for the last time, quit calling me that!”

\----------

As it turns out, the benefit of attending a school that accepts students from all over North America is getting to celebrate three countries’ worth of holidays. First up on the list is Canadian Thanksgiving on the 13th of October.

True to Richie’s word, the Thanksgiving feast is quite the spectacle. Dinner that night is essentially a massive potluck of North American cuisine: roasted turkey and cranberry sauce, hundreds of custard pies, and several dishes from Mexico and Canada that the Losers are unfamiliar with, like pumpkin guacamole and caribou stew. The tables have been draped in crimson linen, and maple leaves are fluttering down from the enchanted ceiling only to disintegrate before touching the floor.

The Losers take their usual secluded spot in the corner of the Great Hall, and Richie eagerly dares Eddie to try the bowl of poutine, which looks thoroughly unappetizing. Eddie is about to take a hesitant bite when they hear the shrill voice of Greta Keene, a Horned Serpent first-year and the daughter of Professor Keene, the Potions teacher.

“C’mon fatso! Little piggy like you should love all the pie!”

A few tables over, a group of first-years led by Greta have cornered Ben Hanscom. Two boys are holding Ben in place, while Greta has grabbed him by the hair and is trying to forcibly shove his face into one of the custard pies. It seems that with the Great Hall in such a commotion, none of the Professors have noticed the bullies ganging up on him.

The Losers notice, however, and both Bill and Mike move to get up and help Ben when they hear another girl call out.

“Leave him alone Greta!”

The voice belongs to Beverly Marsh, a pretty Wampus first-year with curly red hair tied into a ponytail. Bill recognizes her as the girl who sits at the very back of all their classes, not that he’s been watching her or anything.

Greta sneers. “Yeah? And what’re you gonna do about it, _Bevvy_?”

Beverly promptly picks up one of the custard pies and, with amazing aim, she throws the pastry and hits Greta square in the face. While the taller girl is stunned into silence, Beverly rushes forward to Ben and grabs his hand, guiding him away from the group of shocked bullies. She asks Ben if he’s alright and the chubby boy looks completely star-struck, barely managing to stammer out a thank you.

The pastry slowly slides off of Greta, leaving a trail of cream down her robes. The girl’s face is contorted with angry disbelief.

“You did _not_ just do that. You _bitch_!”

Everyone gasps when they hear the curse word and, without thinking, Bill picks up a pie and angrily throws it. His aim isn’t quite as good as Beverly’s; he hits Greta’s shoulder, but the effect is immediate. The first-years all go quiet (not saying much when the rest of the room is so loud), and Greta turns her gaze towards the Losers, pure rage in her eyes.

“PIE FIGHT!” Richie screams.

Greta chucks a pie straight at Bill, but he manages to duck quickly enough. Richie, however, isn’t quite so lucky and is rewarded with a faceful of custard.

At that moment, the Great Hall descends into utter chaos.

Roused by Richie’s cry, a handful of rowdy older students jump out of their seats and cheer, grabbing pies of their own and joining in without hesitation. What follows is a massive food fight of apocalyptic proportions. 

Custard pies are flying every which way and, at one point, a fifth-year charms a batch of roasted turkeys to zoom around the Great Hall like a flock of headless, undead birds, dive bombing the screaming students below. 

Most people end up grouping together by House, led by their respective Quodpot teams, though there are a few students who opt to go join their friends in other Houses. And then there are a few older students (mostly Horned Serpents) who pay no attention to the chaos around them, calmly eating their dinner while flipping through textbooks or doing homework, Shield Charms put up to protect themselves from the flying debris.

The adults try and fail to get the situation under control, futilely yelling over the screams and laughter and ordering the students to stop. A few of the Professors, the Headmaster included, simply remain seated and pay no attention to the students, not seeming bothered in the slightest.

Meanwhile, the Losers are locked in combat with Greta and her gang. All the Losers, even Stanley and Eddie, have rushed forward to help Bill, and Beverly and Ben quickly join in as well. The pie trays are made of tinfoil so no one can do serious damage, but the battle is still vicious and merciless.

Beverly, Bill and Mike have the best aim, landing multiple headshots that leave the bullies blinded and dazed. Stanley manages to get a few good hits in as well, on account of his exceptional hand-eye coordination, while Richie makes up for his lack of precision with his enthusiasm, chucking pies and fistfuls of poutine with overwhelming speed. Eddie’s small size comes in handy for once, as it makes him almost impossible to target. To his immense satisfaction, Eddie manages to land a hit on Chris Unwin, the Wampus student who’d made fun of Bill’s stutter on their first day. The bullies single Ben out as the weak link and try to focus their attacks on him, but the Losers protectively stand in front of the meek first-year like human shields. 

Ultimately, the Losers manage to drive their opponents back. With seven people on their team versus Greta’s five, they quickly win thanks to the numbers advantage. Thoroughly drenched in cream, Greta and her cronies scramble out of the Great Hall, calling out insults and swearing vengeance. 

The older students still show no signs up settling down, and at this point the Professors have given up on trying to control them. Once the chaos becomes too much to handle, the Losers escape the Great Hall as well, laughing and wiping cream off their faces. Ben and Beverly have joined them, though the former is looking at the other first-years nervously, as though unsure if he belongs there with them. 

“Um. Thank you, guys. You really saved me back there.”

Mike grins and pats Ben on the back. “No problem, man. Ever get into a food fight, you know who to call.”

“Now _that_ is the most fun I’ve ever had on Thanksgiving,” Beverly laughs, wiping a glob of cream from her nose, and the Losers all cheer in agreement. “You guys seem pretty cool. Mind if Ben and I hang with you tomorrow?”

“Um. Wait. Me, too?” Ben asks, face flushing.

Beverly smiles kindly. “Yeah, of course.” 

“Whoa whoa whoa, wait a sec,” Richie interrupts, mock horror on his face. “Hang out with a _girl_? What if we get cooties!?” 

“Ohmigod Richie, cooties are _not_ a real disease!”

“Are too! I got _tons_ of cooties from your mother –”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stanley cuts in. 

Bill gives Richie a sharp look. “W-what we m-m-mean to say is that we'd b-be happy t-to have you two.”

"Hey, I was just kidding!" Richie holds his hands up defensively. "I'm all for adding more people to the club. I mean, seven _is_ the most magical number."

The newly expanded Losers' Club heads outside, and Richie stubbornly tries to convince Stanley that the number seven is indeed magical and that it's not just 'a stupid wives' tale'. Once they reach the courtyard, the group splits up to head back to their respective dorms, but not before Ben promises to lend Mike his copy of _Revised Magical History_. 

Stanley and Ben leave for the Horned Serpents’ dorms together, sharing an animated conversation about the magical animals that live around Ilvermorny. Emboldened by their victory, Ben is talking up a storm and is looking happier than ever.

Eddie and Mike head back with Riche, as the Pukwudgie dormitory is closest to Thunderbird’s. Eddie loudly complains about how bacteria is sure to fester on his cream-coated clothes and Richie immediately makes a crude joke about the bacteria festering in Eddie’s mother, while Mike watches the two bicker with an amused grin. 

Bill and Beverly are the last to go, giggling and making fun of Greta on their way back to the Wampus dormitory. To Bill’s relief, Beverly doesn’t seem to mind his stutter at all.

“Did you see the look on Greta’s face when you threw the pie at her?”

“L-l-like a g-gasping f-fish!”

Too soon for Bill’s liking, they arrive at the Wampus commons. He and Beverly are the only ones in the empty room, and the two look at each other a little awkwardly. Bill feels a tad guilty for getting cream all over the carpets, though there’s probably a spell to easily clean up the mess. 

“Thanks again,” Beverly suddenly says. “For the help.”

“You sh-shouldn’t thank us t-too much,” Bill replies with a sheepish smile. “H-hanging with us m-makes you a loser, t-too.”

“I can handle that,” she laughs.

Before Bill can react, Beverly places a light kiss on his cheek. Smiling brightly, she heads up the stairs to the girls’ bedrooms. Bill watches her go, mouth agape and face aflame, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to find steam coming out from his ears.

After he’s taken a quick shower and safely locked himself in his bedroom, Bill pulls out his journal of short stories. He stays up late that night, doodling in the margins of the notebook, thinking of the girl with blazing hair and a smile just as brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear poutine tastes better than it looks. 
> 
> Also, I love the Harry Potter books, but I could seriously spend all day ranting about the story of Ilvermorny’s founding and how stupid it is.


	4. First Year - The Snakewood Tree

It’s the morning after Thanksgiving, and the Losers have gathered to eat breakfast in their usual secluded corner of the Great Hall, which has been cleaned spotless overnight by the house elves. Over at the staff table, the teachers are eyeing the students warily, as though expecting another catastrophic food fight to suddenly erupt.

“Don’t look, but I think Greta wants to kill us.”

Richie, who is sitting across from Eddie, immediately twists around to look behind him, because he apparently has an innate compulsion to do the exact opposite of whatever Eddie tells him. Greta is sitting a few tables over, whispering with her friends and glaring daggers at the Losers’ club.

“I said _don’t_ look, idiot,” Eddie hisses nervously.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Richie finally turns his back to Greta’s table.

“So, I dunno about you guys, but I’d rather _not_ getting killed while I’m trying to eat,” he says with an air of nonchalance that Eddie can’t help but envy.

“At least you don’t have class with her every period,” Stanley mutters darkly. Ben, the only other Horned Serpent in the group, immediately flinches at the reminder.

“ _Oh no_ …” he quietly whimpers, which prompts Richie to reach around Stanley and comfortingly pat his back.

“Relax, Benny. You’ve got the rest of us looking out for you now. Greta won’t try anything as long as you’re in a group… Er, probably.”

“All the same, I’d rather keep our interactions with Greta and her goons to a minimum,” Stanley says. His voice is even, but Richie can tell he’s anxious by how intensely he’s focused on buttering his toast, neatly and deliberately moving his knife from corner to corner.

“Well, we can’t exactly avoid them in class,” Mike reasons. “Anyone have any ideas for where to hang out after classes, then?”

“Where do you guys usually hang out?” Beverly asks.

“N-nowhere, really,” Bill says. “W-we t-t-try not to spend a lot of t-time in the G-Great Hall or the d-dorms because, w-well…”

“Because people are jerks,” Beverly finishes for him.

“P-p-pretty much.”

“Library doesn’t work either,” Stanley says. “Whenever we hang out there, Richie and Eddie make such a racket I’m surprised Ms. Starrett hasn’t banned us from coming back yet.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that Richie never shuts his mouth,” Eddie says petulantly, face pink.

“Oh please, Ms. Starrett _loves_ my impressions”.

Riche and Eddie have started bickering again when Ben notices that Beverly is being oddly quiet, a contemplative look on her face.

“Um, something wrong Beverly?”

“I think I know where we can all hang out,” she says. “Everyone meet me at the front entrance during lunch, alright?”

“And just waddaya have in mind, Miss Marsh?” Richie asks in a terrible New Yorker accent that makes Eddie and Stanley groan.

“You’ll see,” she answers with a secretive smile.

\----------

After second period, the Losers meet at the front entrance of the castle as agreed. From there, Beverly guides the Losers, not towards the greenhouses as they’d first expected, but towards Greylock Forest at the outskirts of the school grounds. Wherever Beverly is taking them is a ways off from the castle, far enough that Stanley becomes worried that they’re out of bounds. Beverly assures him that her hang out spot isn’t _in_ the forest, just right next to it, so they’re technically not breaking any rules.

After walking for a good ten minutes, Beverly stops in front of a massive snakewood tree growing by the edge of Greylock Forest, far enough downhill that the castle is barely visible over the horizon. The tree is at least five stories tall, with huge, gnarled roots and a thick canopy of withered leaves.

“I found this place while I was wandering the grounds on my own,” Beverly explains. “I figured it’s as good a place as any for us to hang out, since no one ever seems to come down here.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Eddie says, eyeing the tree nervously. “It looks all old and twisted. Like something out of a horror movie.”

Beverly laughs brightly. “Well, I think the creepiness adds character.”

"Hey, Buddingher mentioned this tree during History, didn’t he?" Mike says.

"Er, he did?" Beverly asks.

“Honestly guys, it wouldn't kill you to pay attention in class for once.”

“Why bother when we've got you, Mikey? Richie says, slinging an arm around Mike's shoulder.

And Bill, who has always had an interest in the supernatural and arcane, long before coming to Ilvermorny, immediately feels drawn to the Tree, gnarled roots and all.

“It’s p-p-perfect.”

\----------

Despite Eddie's initial misgivings, the Snakewood Tree does indeed turn out to be the perfect hang out spot for the Losers.

On weekdays, the Losers meet up at the Tree for lunch, exchanging notes and chatting about their classes before heading to next period, while on weekends, they spend the majority of the day at the Tree, minus breakfast and dinner in the Great Hall. It’s far enough from the castle that other students don't come bother them, and the weather around Ilvermorny is mild enough that the Losers can eat lunch outdoors without much trouble. Anyways, the canopy is dense enough that they don't have to worry about getting wet whenever it rains.

Being history buffs, both Mike and Ben find the Tree fascinating. According to _History of Magical America_ , the Snakewood Tree has a long, colourful history dating all the way back to the founding of the school in the 17th century. Apparently, the Tree has a bad reputation because of its association with the infamous Salazar Slytherin, as legends say the tree grew from the spot his wand was buried. Slytherin, Mike explains, was an extremely powerful wizard and one of the founders of the British wizarding school Hogwarts, as well as a staunch advocate of the Pure-blood eugenics movement.

"I think it's kind of unfair though," Mike says, looking thoughtful. "It's not the wand's fault its owner was a bad person. I mean, Isolt Sayre used the very same wand to help build Ilvermorny."

Still, the association with an infamous blood purist does make the No-Maj-Born Losers, Bill and Ben, rather uncomfortable, which prompts Beverly to defiantly write ‘BLOOD EQUALITY’ on the trunk in bright pink Everlasting Paint (carving the letters in had proven ineffective, as the Tree seems impervious to lasting damage). Richie, who can't resist joining in on the fun, paints a more controversial 'SLYTHERIN SUX' next to Beverly's message. The Losers half expect Stanley to reprimand them for vandalizing school property, but the curly-haired boy doesn’t even look up from his Transfiguration homework while Beverly and Richie are painting, and Richie knows that his best friend silently approves.

To Stanley's delight, the Tree is also secluded enough that some of the rarer magical beasts that live in the Forest occasionally come out to nest. And while Richie pretends to act bored by Stanley's 'incessant nerdiness', the Losers end up spending several lazy weekends sprawled out on the grass, watching Snidgets and Jobberknolls fly by overhead while Stanley provides commentary on the animals' unique magical properties, their homework put off for another day. Bill starts bringing his sketchbook to draw the magical beasts as well, and Stanley thinks his sketches are beautiful; when Bill asks if he'd like to keep them, Stanley quickly turns him down, flustered and touched by the offer.

Richie, meanwhile, just loves how tall the Tree is, and often tries to see how high up he can climb, even as Eddie shrieks at him to get down and that he'll break his neck if he isn't careful. He quickly ropes Beverly into climbing up with him, and the two compete to see who can reach the top branch first. The other Losers eventually join in as well, even Stanley once he's confident in his ability to cast Softening Charms. Unsurprisingly, Eddie is the last of them to gather the courage to climb up, after days of insistent coaxing from Richie. And even though Eddie still claims that the Tree is horribly creepy, he begrudgingly admits that the view from the top branch is pretty awesome. Bill also privately thinks it's great that his best friend is spending more time outdoors, especially after a childhood of being cooped up in his house with his overbearing mother.

And they aren’t sure if there really is truth to Richie's insistence that seven is a magic number, but the Losers find that, somehow, their little group of misfits just _works_ , like a random mismatch of puzzle pieces that happen to fit together perfectly.

To his surprise, Bill ends up the de facto leader of the gang in spite of his clumsiness and constant stuttering. He wonders if it's just because he's the oldest and tallest of the Losers, but Eddie suggests it's because Bill, being the only one of them with a sibling, has the patience and authority of a natural big brother.

For instance, the Losers are eating lunch together at the Tree one afternoon when Richie makes a good-natured joke about Ben's weight.

"Want an extra muffin, Chubs? Growing boy like you needs food."

Bill, who has known Richie longer than Ben, can tell his friend is genuinely trying to be nice by sharing his food. Bill can also tell by his reddening cheeks and downcast eyes that Ben is sensitive about his chubbiness.

"Kn-knock it off, R-Richie." Bill's voice is stern, but not harsh, and since Bill usually humours his crude jokes, Richie understands that he's gone too far whenever the older boy puts his foot down. And Richie, despite his occasional insensitivity, never means to hurt his friends.

"Oh. Sorry, Benny. Didn't mean to offend you," he says sheepishly.

If anything, Richie's apology makes Ben flush even harder, and the flustered boy assures that he isn't mad and hurriedly takes the offered muffin.

"Just ignore him, Ben. We call him Trashmouth for a reason," Eddie says, and the Losers all laugh as Richie pretends to act affronted

Funnily enough, Bill had expected _Richie_ to take charge of their group at first, seeing as the bespectacled boy is so outgoing and confident, but Richie is more than satisfied with his self-proclaimed role of comedic relief. Stanley also rightly points out that Richie is impulsive and lacks any sort of filter, and he'd likely get the lot of them expelled in a week if he was the leader.

At one point, Richie even sneaks a miniature Dungbomb into Professor Buddinger’s morning tea as a roundabout way of apologizing to Ben. Buddinger’s eyes bug out comically after his first sip, and the History teacher immediately spits out the tainted tea, sputtering and swearing loudly. The Losers try to stifle their laughter as the other staff members look at Buddinger like he’s gone insane, and Professor Dunhill reprimands her colleague for cursing in front of the students. Ben, who is far too nice for his own good, scolds Richie for messing with a teacher, even as he fails to hold back a guilty giggle.

The other Losers would never admit it, but Richie really does know how to cheer them up when they're down.

As for Stanley, he’s the one who keeps the group organized and on-task. Vice President of the Losers’ Club, as Richie puts it. While he still refuses to let the others copy off his answers, Stanley is the first to offer help when one of them falls behind on their studies. When Bill struggles to pronounce the more verbose spells like _Petrificus Totalus_ , Stanley patiently helps him practice, repeating the incantations with him until he gets the hang of them. And once Stanley realizes that all the Losers, minus Mike and Ben, are chronic procrastinators, he starts keeping a colour-coded planner to help them stay on top of their homework.

Bill is touched by the effort and tells Stanley that he didn't have to go through the hassle, but Stanley simply shrugs and says that he enjoys organizing things.

"I'm not _forcing_ you guys to follow the planner or anything," he says, cheeks reddening. “I mean, I've been making schedules for Richie for years now and he still never does his homework on time."

Bill assures Stanley that he thinks the planner is a great idea, and promises that he'll put more effort into following it than Richie (though to be fair, that isn't saying much).

Richie jokes that Eddie is basically the mom of the Losers’ Club, and insists he means it affectionately when Eddie angrily shoves him. Whenever one of the Losers are feeling under the weather, Eddie fusses over them and heads straight to the hospital wing for the appropriate medicine. Since he’s always picking up a half-dozen different pills and refills for his inhaler, the hospital staff don’t bat an eye when Eddie asks for an extra Pepper-Up Potion.

Incidentally, Eddie discovers that he has a surprising talent for Potions, to the point that it’s the only class in which he regularly outperforms both Ben and Stanley. When Ben catches a mild cold in late October, Eddie pulls out his Potions textbook and manages to brew a perfect Cough Potion for his friend before the first-years even learn how to make it in class; Eddie beams with pride when Ben tries the potion and reports that his sinuses have never felt clearer. Because as abrasive and hot-tempered as he can be, Eddie is a natural caretaker, and in hindsight, Bill isn't surprised that his best friend wound up in Pukwudgie.

Richie also jokingly refers to Mike as the group dad, who doesn't mind the designation nearly as much as Eddie minds his. Ben meekly admits that, at first, he'd been intimidated by Mike, who's not quite as tall as Bill, but stockier from years of farmwork. The Losers think this is hilarious, since Mike is by far the gentlest and hardest to anger out of all of them. And the most indulgent, according to Stanley, who is still trying to stop Mike from letting Richie copy off his History homework to no avail.

Despite being raised by his No-Maj grandfather, Mike is also obsessed with wizarding sports. He often gets into arguments with Richie over who the best professional Quodpot teams are, and the only time the Losers see Mike get genuinely annoyed with Richie is when he insists the Chamberlain Centaurs are a better team than the Fitchburg Finches.

"So basically, it’s kind of like soccer," Mike says, explaining the sport to Bill and Eddie. "Except all the players are flying around on broomsticks. Oh, and if you don’t throw the Quod in the goal quickly enough, it explodes."

"The ball explodes!?" Eddie gasps. "That's... That's barbaric!"

"My sentiments exactly," Stanley says, rolling his eyes when Mike and Richie look at him with mock hurt.

"I d-don't know, it s-sounds pretty c-c-cool to me," Bill says, which earns him disapproving looks from Stanley and Eddie and an appreciative pat on the back from Mike.

As for Ben, he’s by far one of the nicest people the Losers have ever met, who rarely has a bad thing to say about anyone. He’s rather quiet and introverted, but the other Losers make sure he never feels left out, and he proves to be a surprisingly good mediator whenever Eddie and Richie’s arguments get too heated.

Since Ben is both naturally curious and a No-Maj-Born, he’s fascinated by all their classes and spends most of his free time with his nose buried in a thick book, and his love for literature is what encourages Bill to show him his short stories. In fact, Ben is the first of his new friends that Bill has felt comfortable sharing his writing with, and he loves that he has someone with whom he can share his passion for literature; Bill has always refrained from showing his writing to Eddie, since his best friend absolutely hates horror stories.

"They're really good, you know,” Ben tells him with a timid, but heartfelt smile that Bill happily returns. And with some gentle coaxing, Ben helps Bill gather the courage to share his writing with the rest of the Losers. Much like Eddie, Mike seems extremely uncomfortable when Bill reads them his latest story about a cymbal-banging monkey toy that signals someone’s death; he hastily assures Bill that that's a good thing, since the whole point of horror is to make the reader scared. Richie and Beverly absolutely love the story, however, and Bill’s heart swells when Stanley says he thinks he's really talented and offers to proofread Bill's writing if he'd like.

And finally, although Bill may technically be the leader of the Losers’ Club, it’s really Beverly that keeps them all together. She’s the first to help Richie when he decides to prank someone, and she loves listening to Mike's stories about his courageous Auror grandmother, or talking about poetry with Ben. She often joins Stanley whenever he goes bird-watching on weekend mornings, and graciously tutors Eddie in Charms, her best subject, when he starts falling behind the rest of their classmates. She’s kind and genuine, with an infectiously bright smile, and Bill’s crush on Beverly increases tenfold when she shyly shows him her sketchbook of watercolour paintings and clothing designs, realizing they both share a passion for art.

Honestly, it’s no surprise that half of the Losers have a secret crush on her; Ben stammers almost as badly as Bill whenever Beverly talks to him, which she privately thinks is rather cute.

She’s smart, funny, pretty and brave, and Bill wonders aloud why Beverly would want to hang out with losers like them. Beverly insists that they may be Losers, but they’re not _losers_ , and says that she has no interest in hanging out with bullies like Greta Keene no matter how popular they may be.

Even so, Bill can’t help but feel a little guilty, because Beverly is the only one of them who is unpopular by choice. Bill is certain that if she hadn’t stood up for Ben, if she hadn’t helped the Losers during Thanksgiving, Beverly could’ve been one of the 'cool kids'.

\----------

Speaking of Greta Keene, it seems that after the Apocalyptic Pie Fight (so dubbed by Richie), she and her cronies are determined to make life as miserable as possible for the Losers.

Near the end of October, when the first-years start making Cough Potions in class, Eddie is predictably both the first to finish and the only one to brew a perfect batch, considering he’s already made the potion once before on his own. At the end of the lesson, Eddie pours his potion into a flask and leaves it at Professor Keene's desk for marking, trying to ignore how Greta is quite obviously sending him dirty looks at him from across the lab, eyes burning with jealousy.

Eddie takes a breath of relief once he makes it back to his bench, where Stanley, Mike and Ben have yet to finish their potions. Right when Eddie starts clearing his things, he hears a smashing noise from the front of the classroom.

He quickly whips his head around and sees Greta up at the Professor's desk with a hand over her mouth in mock horror, Eddie's flask in pieces on the floor and his potion ruined.

"Oops!"

"She-! She broke it on purpose!" Eddie cries, desperately looking at Professor Keene for help.

"No, Professor! I _swear_ it was an accident," Greta says sweetly, giving her father doe-eyes.

Professor Keene spares Eddie an impassive glance.

"Mr. Kaspbrak. A new batch at my desk before the end of class, or else you'll fail the assignment," he says bluntly. The Professor goes back to marking essays, and Greta gleefully skips back to her bench and joins her giggling friends.

"B-but..."

Eddie is on the verge of tears, lips trembling, and he can feel his lungs start to constrict when Stanley quickly offers to share some of his Cough Potion with him. Ben hurries to pull out Eddie's inhaler from his fanny pack and Mike helps Eddie get his breathing back to a steady pace, rubbing his back soothingly, while Stanley hastily scoops some of his potion into an extra flask, glaring furiously at a smirking Greta.

And that's just the start of the Losers' troubles.

\----------

In early November, a week before the inter-House Quodpot Tournament officially begins, the first-years find notices up on the dormitories’ bulletin boards advertising optional Flying Lessons in the courtyard, which all the Losers end up attending. Richie and Mike, of course, jump at the opportunity, and their enthusiasm quickly rubs off on Bill. Beverly, who was raised by her No-Maj father despite being a Half-Blood, is also curious about flying, and Ben decides to go because Beverly is going. Stanley admits he’s always wanted to try bird-watching on a broomstick, and Eddie reluctantly agrees to come along once he realizes the rest of his friends are set on going.

At one-o’clock that Saturday, the Losers hurry down to the courtyard in front of the dormitories for their first flying lesson. A crowd of participants has already gathered, consisting of mostly first-years and a few older students, and rows of musty school-owned broomsticks have been lined up neatly on the grass. At the front of the crowd is Ms. Desjardin, the Flying instructor, who has already started greeting the students.

“– and if you have any questions at all, you can always ask the students volunteers. They’re all players for the Ilvermorny Quodpot teams, so they have plenty of experience with flying.”

Bill is doing his best to pay attention when he suddenly feels Riche sharply elbow him in the arm.

"What the hell is _Bowers_ doing here?" he whispers nervously.

The Losers collectively feel a sense of dread when they look beside Ms. Desjardin and see Henry Bowers, standing amongst the student supervisors and wearing the Wampus Quodpot team’s black and beige robes, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world.

"I th-think he's one of th-the s-superv-v-visors..." Bill says warily. "I heard him c-complaining in the C-Common Room that he has t-to do c-c-community s-service as p-punishment for something."

Although it seems Henry hasn’t noticed the Losers yet, they still move as far back from the front of the crowd as possible, and Mike, who looks like he’s about to be sick, tries to futilely hide himself behind Bill.

“Now, everyone stand in front of a broomstick!” Ms. Desjardin barks. “Then hold your dominant hand over the broom and say ‘Up!’”

The Losers hurry to find themselves a spot, and Bill shares a dubious look with Eddie as he holds his hand out over one of the decrepit, dirt-coated brooms, feeling rather foolish.

“Up!”

Much to his surprise, the broom immediately jumps into his hand. Bill glances at the rest of the class and finds that few of the other students were as successful. Mike is the only other Loser who has his broomstick in hand, while Beverly and Stanley’s brooms half-heartedly lift a few feet off the ground only to drop back down. Eddie and Ben’s brooms aren’t moving at all, and when Richie impatiently tries to get his broom to jump (“C’mon, up! Up! Up! Up!”), it suddenly flies off the ground and smacks him right on the nose. Eddie rushes over to make sure Richie isn’t seriously hurt, though he does a poor job of concealing his giggles when Richie dramatically groans in pain.

Ms. Desjardin demonstrates how to properly mount their brooms, then walks around the class correcting everyone’s grips and posture. For the first ten minutes or so, everyone just practices kicking off from the ground and staying afloat, which Bill doesn’t find particularly difficult. If anything, Bill takes to flying almost immediately, which is surprising considering how clumsy he usually is on solid ground. The same can’t be said for Eddie, who looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, eyes clenched shut and hands gripping the broom handle so hard his fingers are turning white.

Once Ms. Desjardin is confident that no one is going to crash and get themselves killed, she announces that the students are free to fly around on their own for the rest of the class.

“Just remember to stay within the school boundaries, and don’t fly too high or too quickly. The student supervisors and I will be nearby at all times, so be sure to come to us if there are any problems.”

With that, the class set off on their broomsticks, whooping and cheering as they fly around the courtyard. The Losers make sure to fly as close to the edge of the school grounds as possible, not wanting to have a run in with Henry. After Bill and Mike, Beverly is the next to get the hang of flying, and the three play an intense game of midair tag while the other Losers are still practicing staying aloft. Stanley eventually manages to get his broom under control, though he is overly cautious and stiff. Meanwhile, Richie’s broom stubbornly refuses to listen to its rider, soaring all over the place uncontrollably, though judging by his exhilarated laughs, the bespectacled boy is clearly enjoying the wild ride.

“Best. Class. Ever!”

“Sh-shut _up_ , Richie!” Eddie yells, voice shaky with nerves. He and Ben are still struggling to stay steady on their brooms, and the latter looks just about ready to puke from motion sickness.

Feeling guilty, Bill decides to head over and help when another first-year suddenly zips towards them.

It’s Chris Unwin, one of Greta’s friends, and the boy roughly bumps into Ben and Eddie, who are already unsteady on their brooms. Ben is able to maintain his grip on the handle, and Beverly and Mike are quick enough to reach him and help him back on the broom, but Eddie isn’t quite so lucky; with a terrified shriek, he slips off his broom and falls. Acting on instinct, Bill makes a dive for Eddie and manages to catch him, but the added weight sends Bill’s broom careening downwards. Thankfully, they’re close enough to the ground that the crash-landing isn’t too painful, but when Bill gently sets Eddie down on the grass, the shorter boy is whimpering and desperately clinging to his hoodie.

The other Losers quickly fly down to make sure Eddie isn’t hurt too badly and, much to their displeasure, Chris decides to come join them on the ground as well, with Greta and and the rest of their gang close behind.

“What the hell’s your problem!” Richie yells at Chris, standing protectively in front of Eddie.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to bump into them,” Chris says, holding his hands up innocently while his friends snicker behind him. “Not my fault the little sissy couldn’t stay on his broom.”

“B-back off, C-Chris,” Bill says through gritted teeth.

“Oh yeah? And w-w-what are you gonna d-d-do about it, B-B-Billy-boy?”

Greta and her friends laugh hysterically at Chris’ impression, and Bill flushes self-consciously, but refuses to back away. Not deterred in the slightest, Chris makes his way towards the Losers and shoves Richie so hard that he’s sent sprawling on the grass, oversized glasses flying off his face.

“I t-t-told you t-to leave them alone!” In the back of his mind, Bill can hear his parents reminding him to be smart and civil, to be a good role model for Georgie, but right now all he can think about is how Chris could’ve seriously injured his friends. Without thinking, he angrily shoves the bully, and Chris, who’s about the same height as Bill but far less distasteful of violence, promptly punches Bill in the face.

Bill reels back, left cheek going numb, and he hears the Losers shouting angrily in the background. Blood pumping furiously in his head, Bill lands a punch on Chris’ nose, hearing a satisfying crack.

Before the fight can escalate, someone grabs Bill by his hood and violently pulls him away from Chris onto the grass. Bill looks up, dazed, and his stomach drops when he sees Henry standing over him.

Finally noticing the commotion, Ms. Desjardin swoops down on her broomstick.

“And just _what_ is going on here?” she asks indignantly.

“From the looks of it, Denbrough was picking fights,” Henry says. “Nearly broke Unwin’s nose, ma’am.

“What!? That’s not what happened at all!” Beverly yells, furious. The Losers cry out in outrage, trying to defend Bill, but Ms. Desjardin refuses to listen, holding a hand up to silence them.

“Denbrough. Unwin. Detention, both of you, 8:00pm tomorrow in my office,” she says firmly. “And the rest of you, follow Bowers and rejoin the class while I take these two to the Hospital Wing.”

The Losers watch Bill follow Ms. Desjardin helplessly, and as soon as the Flying instructor is out of sight, Henry grabs Mike by the collar and pushes him to the ground. Mike yelps in pain, and the other Losers try to rush over to help him up when Henry gives them a murderous glare. The Losers stop in their tracks and fearfully back away; Henry is nearly twice as big as them and could easily beat them to a pulp. Even Greta and her friends seem intimidated, turning tail and running back to the rest of the class without a second thought.

“Warned you to stay out of my way, didn’t I Hanlon?” Henry says, sneering down at Mike. “Gave you and your loser friends a free ride so far ‘cuz you’re just wittle first-years. Next year, though? Free ride’s over.”

The bully gives Mike a rough kick in the stomach before heading back to join the other student supervisors. Once Henry is gone, the Losers help Mike to his feet, trying to comfort the trembling boy while Eddie digs through his fanny pack to treat the nasty scrape on Mike’s knee.

“Never mind,” Richie mutters. “This was the _worst_ class ever.”

\----------

Thankfully, the rest of the school year passes without much incident. Bill serves his time in detention, and the Losers attend the remainder of their Flying lessons, making sure to stay close to Ms. Desjardin the whole time.

And now that they’ve realize most of the authority figures in Ilvermorny couldn’t care less about disciplining bullies, the Losers learn to cope with being constantly tormented by Greta and her friends. They spend more time than ever at the Snakewood Tree, their one reliable refuge from the relentless bullies, even as sunshine and rain are replaced with snow and ice. The Losers don't mind the winter weather either; Beverly has learned a Charm to create portable fires that they can carry around in jars to keep themselves warm, even as they build snowmen and have viciously competitive snowball fights.

It isn’t long before the holidays arrive, and with them come flocks of owls carrying packages from home. On Christmas morning, all the students who haven't left for winter vacation congregate in the Great Hall to open the presents sent by their families. Even though both Greta and Henry are among the students who remain at Ilvermorny, the holiday festivities are far too enjoyable for the Losers to pay them much attention.

The Great Hall has been decorated appropriately, with festive tinsel garlands and sparkling fairy lights draped all over the walls. A dozen towering Christmas trees have been set up at the front of the hall, topped with bewitched ceramic angels that cheerfully sing Christmas songs, and a light snow is sprinkling down from the enchanted ceiling.

The Losers settle down to enjoy their Christmas morning, but their mood is unfortunately soured when they hear Greta loudly bragging about all the gifts that her mother sent her, and how it's a shame that some kids' parents don't love them enough to send anything. She shoots smug looks at Richie, seemingly the only student in the Great Hall who has received nothing from the post.

To the Losers' surprise, Richie doesn't retaliate with a snappy comeback, instead looking down at his cup of hot chocolate, shrinking in on himself. Eddie, who has never seen Richie so downcast, immediately decides the new look doesn't suit him.

"Richie, are you... Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I... I'm fine, Eddie..." Richie replies distractedly, still not looking up from his cup, and Eddie realizes something truly must be wrong if Richie isn't calling him some ridiculous variation of 'Eddie Spaghetti'.

Stanley, who has grown up with Richie, can count on one hand the number of times he's seen Richie genuinely upset.

The first was when a four-year-old Richie had fallen off his toy broomstick and badly scraped his arm, failing to stifle his tears as Stanley covered the wound with a Loony Nonby Band-Aid.

The second was when he'd slept over at Richie’s house, back when they were six years old, and Mr. and Mrs. Tozier had started arguing a couple rooms over, so loud that the yelling could be heard over their game of Exploding Snaps.

And the third was on Richie's seventh birthday, when Richie had shown up at Stanley’s doorstep looking just about ready to cry. That was the first time Richie's parents had forgotten to get him a birthday present, and in the four years since they had yet to remember.

At that moment, Stanley can't help but hate Mr. And Mrs. Tozier a little. He doesn't think they're _evil_ people or anything. He's met them before, and they always came off as pleasant and polite, if a little distant. But really, what kind of parent couldn't be bothered to send their only son a Christmas present?

Stanley abruptly gets up from his seat, and Richie looks at him in confusion.

"Let's go to the Tree," he says, and the other Losers are taken aback by the harshness in Stanley's normally reserved voice. The group leaves the Great Hall with their packages in hand, pointedly ignoring Greta and her friends.

After a brisk walk down the familiar path to the Snakewood Tree, Stanley uses a Warming Charm to clear a spot in the snow for the Losers to sit. Stanley immediately opens his present, which turns out to be an ornate set of wizard’s chess. He briefly feels a bitter pang of nostalgia, and remembers how his father had first taught him the rules, and how the two of them would play a game or two almost every day, at least until work consumed most of his father's schedule.

He brushes off the memories and sets aside the wrapping paper in a neat pile, before promptly preparing the chess board.

"Let's play a round, Richie."

"Uh, I don't know how to play chess."

"I'll teach you," Stanley insists.

It doesn’t take long for Richie to really get into the game, pumping his fist in the air every time one of his chessmen violently demolishes one of Stanley’s pieces. The bespectacled boy suspects his best friend is going easy on him, but feels too grateful to complain. While Stanley and Richie finish their game, the other Losers open their presents as well and, taking a cue from Stanley, do their best to make sure Richie doesn't feel left out.

Bill has received a brand new sketchbook from his parents, and there’s a messy doodle of Bill and his little brother on the first page, most definitely drawn by Georgie, which the Losers think is adorable. Bill has the biggest dopey smile on his face as he looks at his gift, and on the second page of the sketchbook he draws a few unflattering caricatures of Greta and some of their meaner Professors, which he immediately gifts to a laughing Richie.

Ben has received a box full of sweets from his mother, which he passes around to share with the other Losers. Stanley and Richie are fascinated by the unfamiliar No-Maj treats, and the latter jokingly complains that it’s rather dull that none of the jelly beans have ‘exotic’ flavours and the gingerbread animals don’t even move, but ultimately admits that the treats are still pretty delicious.

Beverly opens the package she received from her father, looking strangely hesitant, and pulls out a rather creepy doll wearing a frilly pink dress. The Losers think the doll is hideously garish, and Beverly, aspiring fashion designer that she is, wholeheartedly agrees. She eyes the doll distastefully, holding it away from her as though it’s very existence has personally offended her.

"…Hey Richie, want to get some practice using _Incendio_?" Beverly says with a devilish grin, which the bespectacled boy quickly returns.

"It would be my absolute _pleasure_ , Miss Marsh."

And if there's one thing Richie absolutely excels at, it's setting things on fire. The freezing cold is barely a concern for the Losers, warmed by both Stanley's Charm and Beverly's smouldering doll.

As for Eddie, he has received a positively _excessive_ number of handknitted sweaters, mittens, and scarves from his mother (Now that Eddie thinks about it, perhaps they were knitted with magic? It would certainly explain how his mother could always produce so many in so short a time). Although none of the sweaters fit the other Losers, Eddie insists that Richie take one of the scarves, since he’s currently wearing little more than a thin jacket.

“Seriously, you never bundle up enough for the weather. You’re gonna catch a cold,” Eddie huffs, stubbornly wrapping the scarf around Richie despite his squirming.

"Aw, you really do care Eds!" Richie exclaims, smiling brightly.

"Yeah, _no_. I just don't want you getting sick and spreading germs to the rest of us!" Eddie looks away, flushing in embarrassment. "And don't call me Eds!"

Mike is the last to open his present, which turns out to be a new football from his grandfather, and he excitedly urges the other Losers to play a game with him. The Losers divide into two teams of three, while Eddie is adamant that he referee from the sidelines.

At first, Richie loudly complains that a game where the ball doesn’t explode must be dreadfully boring. By the end of the first quarter, Ben is red-faced with exhaustion and Bill's pants are soaked from all the times he's fallen on the snow. Even so, the Losers end up having a blast, Richie most of all, who laughs and cheers obnoxiously whenever his team scores a point.

“Well, it’s still better than Quidditch!”

And that is how the Losers spent their Christmas morning, the holiday festivities of the Great Hall long forgotten, playing football in the frigid snow, more than happy with each other’s company. And while Eddie would sooner get hit with a Slug-Vomiting Charm than say it aloud, he truly hopes that Richie never loses that mischievous twinkle, equal parts beautiful and infuriating, in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I’m _finally_ done with my midterms. Sorry for the wait, here’s an extra long new chapter to celebrate :D 
> 
> And no offence to any Slytherins out there, I think your House gets a lot of undeserved hate. Salazar, on the other hand, was a blood-purist lunatic who wanted to literally murder schoolchildren with a giant snake monster, so... no sympathy for him.
> 
> In the next chapter: Richie hosts a sleepover, the Toziers are shit parents, and 2nd Year begins.


End file.
